Rachel, known as Melody (Patreon)

Rachel adjusted the top of her evening gown and clicked on the text message app of her phone. This started an exchange:

Vince: Where is she?
Rachel: Meeting her now. Her hotel room.
Vince: Get it done. Can’t wait any longer. AMN.

Rachel sighed and turned off her phone. AMN. Any means necessary. Like she needed to be reminded. When this job was done, she’d be having a talk with her superiors about her role on the team. She was no fixer, no seducer. Certainly she was no assassin. While she had done some of each, this wasn’t where she shined.

She stepped into the glass elevator and ascended the twenty floors to the penthouse suites. Penthouse. What would the noble taxpayers of the US of A think about $2,500 per night in accommodations? And for a Virologist?

She stepped off the elevator and walked down the hallway. Well, she sauntered. She needed to get into character. Melody Stewart. Not an alias she enjoyed. Melody was a hard facade to master: meek, emotional, needy.

Someone stood outside the door to 1B, a tall man in a black suit with a warrior-of-Sparta build. Rachel noticed a tiny earbud and a displacement of his jacket under his left arm. She also noticed his eyes set on her legs.

“Evening. Do I have the right room? 1B?” she asked with a simple laugh, turning left and right. “This hotel is so huge, I just can’t find anything. I’ve been going in circles so much, I feel drunk.“

The Spartan smirked. “Right room, but I can’t let you in.”

Rachel, as Melody, put on an exaggerated pout and moved in close. “Oh but why not? I’m here for the doctor. We’re friends. Do I need to tell you the secret password?” She leaned away and rubbed her thin hips.

Sparta’s gaze went up her body. He took a subtle gulp of air. “Sorry. You’ll have to turn around now and go.”

“You want me to go?” Rachel brought one arm around her stomach which pushed up her breasts ever so noticeably. The other arm went up so her hand can fix her messy bun as her fingers felt for the stiletto hidden in the hair tie.

She didn’t want to kill him, but she needed to complete this mission. She had worked with Vince for six years and knew the man. His calm demeanor never shook. He kept timelines and followed mission parameters without fail. He had the focus of an eagle looking for a meal, and the work ethic of carpenter ants. Vince’s family was his team, and his one true love was the job. So, his recent mood was a shock. He was pressuring her, changing up plans, making mistakes. 

Sparta's lips parted, and he readjusted his stance. Sweat ran over his forehead.

The door swung wide. Simone looked out, wearing only a long t-shirt, and she formed a smile. “She’s with me, Donald.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know. “. He stepped aside to let Rachel in.

“You had no way to know,” the doctor said and took Rachel’s hand to lead her past him.

Rachel gave him a last, all-too-friendly smile.

The room was huge but it held a lot in it. Three foot carts stood by one wall with piles of dirty plates and uneaten food. Two laptops took over the top of an armoire which had been pulled to the center of the room. Newspapers, file folders, towels and linens piled up and unused, and several over packed suitcases. Blinds were drawn shut, and long curtains blocked the windows. The room smelled dank and musky. So did Simone. Dark bags hung under her eyes, and her skin was dry and waxy. Her short hair was so dirty it clung to her head like a dirty blond helmet.

Otherwise they looked like sisters. Simone was thinner and an inch taller. Sitting at a desk made her body soft and supple while Rachel had the tone and athleticism of a tennis pro.

Rachel placed her purse on an end table. “You’re not ready to go, babe?” she asked, slipping her arms around the woman’s back.

Simone scoffed. “I can’t go anywhere. You just have no idea.” She tried to pull away, but Rachel held her.

“Well talk to me. I’m here for you, baby.” Rachel hugged her and softly kissed her shoulder. She felt Simone sink into her, like the weight of the world shifted off her back.

“I can’t. You wouldn’t understand. I’m not even sure what to do.” Simone laughed and moaned at the same time.

“Well talk to me.” She slipped her hands down Simone’s back, her fingertips finding their way into the top of her panties.

“I want to but can’t, baby. I have to get back to work. You don’t understand. No one does. I’ve been trying to figure it out—how to stop it. Maybe there’s a way out. It has to be there. This can’t be the end.”

Rachel heard the desperation. She felt tension under her lips when she kissed her shoulders. “Baby, you’re scaring me. You’re too tense. What if I do that thing you really like...” She ran her fingers under the band of the panties, to her jutting hip bones, and then along the front. 

Simone yanked Rachel’s hands away. “I can’t, dammit.” She walked to the desk she had made and lifted a remote control. The TV popped onto a news show. Rachel heard Japanese.

“Our officials report that the mobilization of the nation’s military is only to test our preparedness and not anticipation of an attacks against our country.”

Rachel turned her back to Simone and forced tears, just loud enough.

“Are you seriously crying right now?” Simone grabbed a white hotel robe and slipped it on. “I don’t have time for one of your tantrums.”

Rachel cried harder, letting her body shake.

“Look, I need to focus on my work—“ Simone cut herself off and rubbed her own neck. She muttered under her breath and stared at Rachel, who she knew as Melody. 

“You said I could come over, and now it’s like you want nothing to do with me,” Rachel said, her voice shaky and broken with whimpers. 

“You asked to see me, begged me.”

“You could have said no. I told you how I felt and everything changed. You haven’t treated me right since I said those three stupid words.”

Simone walked over to Rachel and rubbed her shoulders. Rachel pulled away but stayed close to the woman.

“I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of stress. You know I have feelings for you. My work right now, the things I’m trying to stop, they affect everyone and everything. If I’m going to keep people safe—you, my father, my team—I just can’t stop until I find the answers I need.”

Rachel turned and kissed her. She gripped her and held her close. Her thoughts were somewhere else. This was taking too long. She needed to know what Simone knew, and she needed it yesterday, even weeks ago. The manipulation wasn’t as effective as it should be.

“You don’t have to tell me about this thing you’re working on,” Rachel said kissing Simone’s neck. “We can just relax.” The last word was charged, dripping off her tongue like dew off petals.

Simone’s body shivered. “God, you know how to turn me on.”

“But first, you need to shower. When’s the last time you even brushed your teeth?”

Simone talked through tight lips. “Give me ten minutes.” She hurried off to the bathroom.

Rachel listened for the door to close and got to work. She ran to the laptop and popped it out. A password prompt appeared, and she entered LyL3Suck5. The screen lit up with anime wallpaper, some character with wild orange hair and a glowing katana. She read through file folder names and opened each, searching for the data she needed. One named Zeta caught her eye. When she double-clicked, a lock image superimposed the folder, and the laptop’s camera flickered. The screen turned to a moving dot scrolling across the screen. 

Her phone vibrated, so she darted over to check it. Pulling it from the purse, the screen read, “Vince.”

“I’m in her room, on her laptop now.” She heard the shower on in the bathroom.

Vince breathed hard. “Give me the IP. I’ll see if I can connect.”

Rachel tapped keys, found the address, and read the digits to him. She heard furious tapping through the phone line.

“I’m in, but the files are locked. What can you see on her side?”

“The key folders are locked behind a scanner, either optic or facial recognition.”

“I’ll need time to work around it. See what you can do on your end. Listen Rachel, we are out of time. It happens tonight or we’re done. I’m leaving in the morning for Bethesda, and you’re going dark.”

Going dark. That could mean a lot of things, and not all were pleasant outcomes.

“I’ll get what we need,” Rachel replied.

“Any means necessary.”

The line went dead, just as the shower turned off. The bathroom door swung inward, and out stepped Simone, drying her hair with a towel.

“Okay babe, I’m all clean.” She looked up and saw Rachel at the laptop. Her lips parted to speak but no words came. Her eyes widened, her back straightened, and her body went stiff. The towel dropped, and she backpedaled.

Rachel sprinted across the room and caught her before the doctor could reach the door. As she opened her mouth to shout, Rachel jammed her open hand into her throat. Simone fell to her knees and gripped her throat, wheezing as she tried to suck in air. She made a sickly squeal which turned to a sound like air leaking from a pinhole in a balloon.

Rachel grabbed a handful of the woman’s hair and yanked her head back to stare into her eyes. “If you scream or try to call your bodyguard, I’ll break your jaw and kill him. Blink hard if you understand.”

Simone strained through red, teary eyes to keep them open. Her wheezing turned to a low grumble. A hand struck her cheek, twisting her head to the side.

“Blink hard to tell me you understand. I’m losing patience. Next I break fingers.”

Simone blinked and stayed quiet.

“Up.” Rachel twisted one of the woman’s arms behind her back and brought her to her feet. She led her to the desk and aimed her face in front of the laptop camera. The dot on the screen streaked from left to right, and the Zeta folder opened.

Rachel tossed her to the floor beside the desk. “Stay there.” She ignored the woman’s glare and crossed the floor to the room phone. She unplugged the gray wire from the wall and receiver, walked back to Simone, and tied her hands to the foot of the bed.

She worked the keyboard as fast as she could type, but Vince was in already. The mouse pointer moved across the screen, dragging files to a strange icon shaped like Pac-man.

“Who are you?” Simone asked, her voice strained.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right.” Simone gulped air and coughed once. There was a long pause as her breathing returned to normal. “I can’t believe I fell for you.”

Rachel didn’t answer. Once Vince disconnected, she saw the last file, a letter from Giovanni D’Angelo, the man they were trying to reach. She didn’t know why, but he was a key to the whole mess the world was preparing to face.

“What happens now?” Simone asked, her voice solemn and soft. “Are you going to kill me?”

Rachel’s phone buzzed. A text came in from Vince. “All done.”

“I can’t believe this.” Simone leaned against the bed and twisted her wrists held by the wire. “You know, I had feelings for you. Real feelings. How can you do this to me? How can you be so callous? How can you live with yourself?”

“I can’t.” Rachel let it slip. She didn’t need to talk to her anymore. She was done with her.

“Is your name Melody? I guess not. How could I be so dumb?” Simone shook her head. “What now?”

Rachel turned to her. “Count to one-hundred before you call for your guard. If I have to come back, I’ll kill you both.” She walked across the room, fixing her hair and dress as she moved. She opened the door only enough to slip through and smiled at Sparta who stood in the same spot.

He smiled at her, a knowing smile and closed the door for her.

Rachel flashed him a sheepish grin. “Early night for me. She’s tired.”

“Sorry to hear it. Good night.”

Rachel sauntered down the hallway until she reached the elevator. She hit the arrow as her phone buzzed again—another message from Vince. 

“I’m gone. Mission over. 62149”

Rachel stared at the screen and read the number over and over. Protocol 62149.

• You’re dismissed from service.
• Make no further contact.
• Save yourself.

The elevator dinged, and she stepped inside. As she descended in the glass elevator, she felt dizzy, eyes out of focus, heart beating fast. On the way to the lobby, all televisions in the lobby bar showed news channels. Words scrolled across the bottom of the screens. 

Zeta Virus. Ruse or Pandemic?

At the ground level, she stepped out into the lobby and fell into a wall. Everything was spinning.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” a hotel worker asked, a kind-faced older man with gray whiskers. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No. I’m going home.”